


kismet

by bigdamnher0



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of religion, Relationship Study, sentence fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26302033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigdamnher0/pseuds/bigdamnher0
Summary: If asked, Yuta will tell you he didn’t get the point of Mark skirting around all of this—this being the kismet-shaped thing they’d been hurtling towards, all this time.(Yumark in 15 sentences)
Relationships: Mark Lee & Nakamoto Yuta, Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	kismet

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting this writing exercise from Twitter! Prompts sourced from 100_prompts @ lj and a word generator

**01\. evidence**

Yuta guides Mark’s hand to his chest, over his shirt—his favorite, pink and soft with use—where, underneath, his enchanted heart burrs continually onwards, if only from the sheer proximity of the boy in front of him—also pink, also his favorite—and says, “ _Get it?_ ”

**02\. i’m here**

There’s never any fanfare when Yuta does it, pressing their thighs together as they sit counting down to their comeback stage, just warmth and a smile like an anchor, plunging through the thick of unease.

**03\. funeral**

Mark talks about death the same way he talks about aliens—that is, ineffable, and immediate, just waiting by the bend to be discovered, like a coin on the sidewalk, and says, “I just think we should live like time’s running out, you know?” and Yuta cackles, says, “Rich, coming from someone who hasn’t taken a day off in six months, but what do I know—”

**04\. puppy love**

“Cuuuute,” is all Yuta says when Mark attempts Neck Hickey # 1 while the dorm’s miraculously evacuated—like he’s something to be _cooed_ at—and Mark vows, simmering, _I’ll blow your mind one day._

**05\. weapon**

Back in the days Yuta still fumbled through interviews, wielding Korean like a bar of wet soap, Mark had assumed the piercings were some sort of armor—like the day the producers didn’t pick Johnny’s demo, and he’d returned to the dorm with new ink—like performative defiance, when syntax and their missed histories got the best of them, as if each time the MUAs smothered them in product and blush, Yuta piled silver and mesh as if to shout: _Still here, motherfuckers!_

**06\. blackboard**

“That’s my name in Katakana, and that’s yours,” Yuta says, tracing the serrated shape of their names, side by side on the board, and only winks conspiratorially when Mark asks, “But hyung, what’s this umbrella mean?”

**07\. muse**

Mark still balks at Yuta’s unfiltered affection, but Yuta can’t help it; the poking, or the prodding, or the Minhyung-induced night fevers he tries to wrangle into a controlled burn, but it’s too late to think Mark’s anything else but his favorite sick. 

**08\. clean**

“Up,” Yuta orders quietly, so he can swipe a lukewarm towel under Mark’s armpits, across his back, and doesn’t say anything else as Mark wilts in the secret of their room—SM’s star-boy extinguishing his flame, if only for today.

**09\. secret**

Mark doesn’t hear anything else after Yuta plants a kiss on his stomach: just _something something something_ do you wanna fuck me or what? _something something something,_ lizard brain skittering back into the primordial ether.

**10\. storm**

The first time Yuta catches Mark praying, Seoul’s flooded to the skies, and Yuta doesn’t believe in any higher power—doesn’t want to be Perceived by Him, or Her, or Them, for that matter—but he tires of self-buoyancy, and Mark’s resplendent enough that when he says, _tomorrow will be better_ , Yuta almost believes it.

**11\. fantasy**

Mark’s voice cracks magnificently when he prods the snack on the table, saying, “Oh, I used to eat this _all_ the time back in Toronto!” and Yuta watches several skulking dreams crack open in Mark’s wide eyes, the way his own still do—skulk, that is—and brim, with old gods and older, forgotten cities, so he jams their toes underneath the table and says, _Well? What else did you eat back home?_

**12\. test**

“Let’s see it,” Yuta commands, so Mark steels himself, drags in one last monumental breath before huffing, _Mark-y is really, reaaally upseeet!_

**13\. tease**

If asked, Yuta will tell you he didn’t get the point of Mark skirting around all of this— _this_ being the kismet-shaped thing they’d been hurtling towards, all this time.

**14\. superstition**

“It doesn’t have to be God,” Mark says, desperately cupping Yuta’s face in his hands like one would catch rain, hoping, at least, to collect _some_ ; “Just that there’s something or, or, or someone out there that can make things better—something stronger than you. So _please_ , lean on me, too.”

**15\. first**

“Hello, Mark,” says the strange new boy with the halting accent and a mouth made for smiling, the way it eases instead of cuts, unlike the other rookies, “starting today, I’m in your hands, yeah?”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twt!](https://twitter.com/prodjohnmark)


End file.
